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Literature Text
Flying high,
Moved by wind
Letting the dreams flow
As a rhythmic phase.
Knowing only what we see
Forgetting about the past
And sailing to nowhere
We are sand in the desert
A pebble thrown to the see
Going with the tide
Knowing only what we see.
Where are we?
Where we go?
Where we went before.
Not a progress
If what we did
Is what tomorrow will be made.
Moved by wind
Letting the dreams flow
As a rhythmic phase.
Knowing only what we see
Forgetting about the past
And sailing to nowhere
We are sand in the desert
A pebble thrown to the see
Going with the tide
Knowing only what we see.
Where are we?
Where we go?
Where we went before.
Not a progress
If what we did
Is what tomorrow will be made.
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Flying high, moved by wind, like sand in a desertic sea.